


This is how they Save Themselves

by w_hope



Series: KHR (Crossovers) One-Shots [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adult Arcobaleno (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - The Umbrella Academy (TV) Fusion, Arcobaleno (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!) As Family, Big Brother!Reborn, Child Soldiers, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Don't copy to another site, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Flashbacks, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Murderer, Light Angst, Minor or Background Arcobaleno, No Dying Will Flames, No Mafia, Non-Linear Narrative, Nonbinary Mammon | Viper, Not Beta Read, Youngest Child!Lal, actually this is the softest arco i wrote so far, also she's the most op of them, because hell if they aren't hurting here lol, do watch out for the flashbacks because they're only written in the past tense, even if they're all the same age of course lol, he's so fucking soft i'd die for him omg, in a hurting way, t rated just to be sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_hope/pseuds/w_hope
Summary: This is how the world is left to burn, but they don’t.They will, along with everyone else when the world does burn, but it isn’t the point.(The point is, nothing else will ever matter more than each other.)
Relationships: Fon & Lal Mirch, Lal Mirch & Reborn
Series: KHR (Crossovers) One-Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206794
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	This is how they Save Themselves

**Author's Note:**

> Here's who everyone is:
> 
> Number One: Reborn – Super Strength and Super Healing
> 
> Number Two: Verde – The Smartest Man In The World 
> 
> Number Three: Fon – The Rumor
> 
> Number Four: Colonnello – The Seance
> 
> Number Five: Viper – The Child
> 
> Number Six: Luce – The Prophetess
> 
> Number Seven: Lal – ~~The White Violin~~ The (Extra)Ordinary One 
> 
> Number Eight: Skull – ~~The Immortal~~ The Ordinary One
> 
> Enjoy!

This is how the world ends.  
  
In the living room of their childhood house, not their home, never their home.

Dad died days ago, but here he stands off to the side between Fon and Lal, unperturbed as his children break from the cracks he painstakingly carved on their souls.  
  
Colonnello and Reborn watch in horror, frozen under the weight of Lal’s power— ~~but no, that can’t be right, Lal doesn’t have powers, never did~~ —, a wave of energy rolling from her at her every breath.  
  
They hold on each other, their hand squeezed tight, _tight_ in each other’s, and here Reborn thought he’d never have to feel powerless again in the face of his siblings’ suffering once they all got away from their Dad.  
  
He should have known better.  
  
Fon speaks the truth, _Lal’s_ truth, and his voice doesn’t shake but it sounds like he’s bleeding out.  
  
He speaks a terrible truth Reborn knew all along, because _of course_ Lal is extraordinary like them, has always been.  
  
She’s the most extraordinary of them all.

They used to tease her about it until she’d blush; she used to stand tall and proud and promise she’d never let anyone hurt them, and they’d all pretend it was a promise she could keep and that wasn’t being broken as they were speaking.  
  
Lal doesn’t say anything but her face says it all, her tears more painful for Fon than any words she could have ever spoken.  
  
Lal doesn’t cry, even when she has always been one of the best among them at letting herself feel.

She smiles her tears away, comforts her pain with promises of happiness yet to come, and always makes sure the happiness does show itself as soon as possible.  
  
Reborn can count on the fingers of one hand how many times he saw his siblings cry, for each of them, and he still has to see some of them shed a tear.  
  
He slipped into Colonnello’s room after his return from the mausoleum, because he heard him hold back his sobs even before he made it back in the safety of his room.  
  
He slipped in his bed, ~~was _allowed_ to and didn’t that say a lot about how Colonnello felt~~, and it was the first and last time one of his siblings cried in earnest in his arms.  
  
This is so much worse.

 _How_ is it so much worse— _why_ is it so much worse when nothing like that should have ever happened again once they made it out of the house.  
  
The bitterness in his mouth hurts even if it shouldn’t.  
  
Reborn should have known better.  
  
The color of Lal’s eyes turns white, her beautiful brown skin takes on a sickly white under glow, and she tucks her violin under her chin.  
  
Reborn’s scream never makes it past his throat.

This is their _sister_ , they don’t have to be afraid of her, they _can’t_ be afraid of her.

They hurt each other many times before but she won’t hurt them, not _like that_ , of course not, they’d never do that to each other.  
  
They don’t need to run away from her.  
  
Colonnello steps forwards.

Lal slides her bow against the cords, and everything explodes blue.

* * *

Reborn kneels amidst the rubble of their childhood house, looms over Fon’s body, his hands pressed against his neck, and he doesn’t know where Colonnello is.  
  
~~He doesn’t know if he survived the explosion.~~  
  
He looks Fon in the eye, every one of his blink a small mercy, every one of his ragged breath a blessing.  
  
He doesn’t hear whatever useless, white lies he’s spouting, because Fon’s blood slips and slips and _slips_ between his fingers, and he’s useless to stop it, powerless as his brother dies in front of him.  
  
He’s Number One, Reborn, the one gifted with Super Strength, with _Super Healing_ , and if his brother dies he’ll never heal himself again.  
  
Lal didn’t do this.  
  
Lal did this.  
  
~~Lal~~ did this.  
  
And Reborn needs to _fix_ this because she’ll never forgive herself.  
  
~~He’ll never forgive himself.~~  
  
Firm hands grab his face, and he doesn’t hear whatever Viper says to him, but he lets them take over anyway because they have clean towels and a first aid kit, and—  
  
_Viper’s here_. ~~Maybe~~ Fon will live.  
  
His sight blurs, darkens at the edges, and the world sways. Reborn stands, but then he falls and it doesn’t seem like he stood at all, and then it’s dark.  
  
He needs to find Colonnello.

* * *

This is how their fate is sealed.  
  
One is the first one to get his tattoo.

Dad does it himself instead of Mom, and the needle looks a bit funny, shines yellow when the light hits it the right way.  
  
Eight is allowed to get one too, and he does a good job at hiding how happy he is. It means it’s _very_ obvious how happy he is, but it could be worse, they would know.  
  
Good. They can’t have Dad change his mind.  
  
~~It’d make Eight~~ ~~ _so_~~ ~~sad, and it’d be another wound none of them could soothe no matter how hard they’d try.~~  
  
One puts on a brave face because of how pale Two looks, of how much Six’s hands shake. He grits his teeth to show as little as he can of the pain he feels, but thankfully it’s not that much.  
  
One expects the needle to break at a moment notice because his Super Strength keeps slipping from him, but Dad finishes the tattoo without trouble.  
  
It’s a pacifier, and he can’t help scrunching up his nose at it because it’s _childish_ , but he supposes it’s stylized enough and very easy to hide anyway.  
  
It glows yellow too, but then he blinks and it’s just dark ink.  
  
Mom holds Two’s hand when it’s his turn, and none of them say anything, none of them will ever comment on that moment to make fun of him.  
  
They aren’t _nice_ to each other, nowhere near as much as siblings should be at least, but one thing they don’t do is mock each other’s fears.  
  
Six chokes back her sobs even before the needle pierces her skin, and Mom doesn’t stroke her hair soothingly enough, or holds her hand reassuringly enough, or whispers comforting words enough to make her stop as Dad tattoos the pacifier on her wrist.  
  
Six full on bursts out crying when it’s only them in One’s room, sat in circle on the carpet and comparing their tattoo to each other’s.  
  
She _hates_ them, _hates_ them, _hates_ them, and none of them should have let Dad tattooed them on them.  
  
It can’t be the vision she had of them getting the tattoos, because it happened just as she said it would, but then again Six’s visions come with a feeling to them even if it doesn’t always fit with what she sees.  
  
Six’s cries sound like fear, like terror, sound like loss and grief.  
  
They try to cheer her up by holding their wrist just right under the light to make them shine red, or yellow, or green, or blue, or indigo, or purple, but it only makes her cry harder.

* * *

  
Somewhere on top of a mountain no one knows exists, no one can see let alone climb, there're eight pacifiers the color of the rainbow that give a soft glow of their respective color.  
  
~~They’d learn about them in due time.~~

* * *

This is how they challenge the world.  
  
They sit on the living room’s big couch, in the orders of their numbers from right to left, their Mom standing in front of them.  
  
Mom found them names.  
  
_Mom is about to give them_ _ **names**_ _._  
  
~~Dad won’t ever use them, but in hindsight it made it~~ ~~ _so much_~~ ~~easier for them to love them without reserve.~~  
  
Mom smiles at One and he sits straighter. “Number One, from now on your name will be Reborn. I hope you like it.”  
  
One— _Reborn_ wants to laugh. There’s not a name in the world he wouldn’t have liked, any one of them is better than his.  
  
Reborn laughs because he loves his name, and he would have loved any other name but it’s not the same, because Reborn is _his_ name and he _loves_ it.  
  
Reborn, Reborn, _Reborn_.  
  
~~Can he really do that, reborn? Could he ever be anyone than One?~~  
  
“Thank you Mamma. It’s a lovely name.”  
  
Reborn listens with rapt attention as Mom gives his siblings their names, silently tries them as he watches the happiness blooms on their face.  
  
Two is now Verde; Three is Fon; Four, Colonnello; Six, Luce; Seven, Lal; Eight, Skull.  
  
~~Five is still Five, because Five isn’t there, Five isn’t anywhere they can found them or even mourn them, and his throat closes up because Five wouldn’t have wanted to stay Five.~~  
  
He catches Skull’s eye, and they’re close in all the way that matter— ~~but shouldn’t have ever, ever mattered~~ —, so they don’t need to share words to understand.  
  
“Viper,” Skull says, and none of them needs him to say anything else.  
  
“Viper?” Mom asks.  
  
Skull nods, the type of smile that’s painful but no less genuine on his face. “Yes, Viper, our sibling. It’s their name. Vipers are the animals they love the most.”  
  
Reborn tries that name too, because Viper is their sibling too, no matter where they are, no matter if they’ll never be there again.  
  
~~Can they really make these names who they are? Isn’t it too late?~~  
  
Mom beams, and claps her hands. “Of course, Viper! What a wonderful name for them darling, I’m sure they’ll love it.”  
  
“Viper,” Luce says softly, sadly, lovingly.  
  
“Viper,” they say each in turn, and say it again, and it sounds like a promise, like hope.  
  
“Viper,” Reborn whispers, and he’s still Number One and isn’t sure he’ll ever become Reborn, but fighting against the odds and coming out on top is what superheroes do.

* * *

  
~~Here’s the thing though, challenging the world doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll win.~~

* * *

This is when the world ends.  
  
Lal is beautiful on stage, even if white was never her color— ~~though it had been once, she was learning to make it her color once upon a time that feels like forever ago and like yesterday at the same time~~ —, and her music doesn’t slow down for a second.  
  
Her power turned tangible and grew limbs and holds them in the air, sucks out their energy, maybe even the life out of them.  
  
They have only themselves to blame, coming at her like she’s a threat when she is their _sister_ , ~~even when she is the greatest threat they ever faced.~~  
  
But they would have never hurt her, not the way Dad taught them to deal with threats.  
  
Lal would remember not to hurt them, if they could give back some brown in her eyes, some blue in the blinding white light coming from her.  
  
Reborn would wipe the tears away from her cheeks first, if he could get close enough.  
  
Fon shoots next to her head without hesitation, of course not, and the music stops.  
  
They did a standing ovation, all theatrics and genuine admiration. Lal blushed, a big grin on her face, and bowed low all royalty like. They laughed.  
  
They cleaned up from their mission and hit the medical bay, then regrouped in Reborn’s room and sat on the bed. Lal took her violin, and played them a song that didn’t end up with anyone dead.  
  
“Another one!” ‘Nello cheered, and soon they were all cheering too, and Lal was all but too happy to give in.  
  
Skull and Luce jumped from the bed, and by the time of the third, fifth song, they had everyone dancing at least once.  
  
By the time Lal put her violin away, smiling from ear to ear, her hands were light and delicate around it, and she looked at it with love again.  
  
Viper gathers them all close and jumps them on top of a mountain. It’s dark but the bright, shining pacifiers blind him, outdoes the glow of their tattoos.  
  
It’s so bright he closes his eyes, and the pacifiers shine and shine and _shine_ , and then it’s dark.  
  
Reborn is _so_ tired.  
  
He needs to check on his siblings, make sure they’re all okay, needs to see Lal’s warm, brown eyes.  
  
He can’t move, can’t even open his eyes.  
  
Did Skull have a jacket on him? It’s so cold, and he has always been such a big skittish baby.

* * *

This is how it starts.  
  
It rains heavily, and a woman walks in his little umbrellas shop. She’s not extraordinary, isn’t one of his kind.  
  
It sometimes happens the extraordinary ones walk past his shop or even come in.

That’s why he keeps his eyes down, to not have their face carved in his mind, to not dream of their dead body on top of a mountain as the current generation ends and the next one comes to life.  
  
~~It’s not his turn yet to bear that burden on his shoulder~~ ~~s~~ ~~, but he’s being taught about it, as his kind keeps dying no matter what they do.~~  
  
The woman stays at the doorway, sheepish. “Good evening sir. I’m so sorry for the mess, but the sudden rain caught me off guard.”  
  
“It’s okay. Please come in and perhaps one of my umbrellas will catch your eye.”  
  
She laughs, the way ordinary people do, like there’s nothing wrong in the world. Ignorance certainly is bliss. It itches his ears. “Ah no, thank you. I’ll just take cover here until it calms down if it’s okay with you. I’d really like not to catch a cold if I can help it.”  
  
“Can’t you afford it? I can make you a price.”  
  
The woman physically recoils. She’s stunned, but then smooths her face in a polite expression, and smiles.  
  
Kawahira blinks, because _this_ is the smile he’s used to seeing on humans, and now he can’t recall any other instances where he saw her previous smile.  
  
~~Her genuine one, open, and warm, and unreservedly ready to share that warm with anyone she’d saw fit.~~  
  
“Thank you, but no, thank you. I’ll take my leave now. Have a good day sir.”  
  
Kawahira stands. “Miss, please wait.” She does, and it’s a relief, surprisingly so. “Let me offer you a cup of tea. Perhaps I can even find towels somewhere. To apologize for my rudeness. Please.”  
  
The woman obliges, and there’s an exited apprehension inside him Kawahira forgot he could feel.  
  
He finds towels, pours two cups of tea, and offers her a chair at the other side of the counter.  
  
“I’m Kawahira. I apologize again for my conduct.”  
  
“It’s okay, it’s all forgotten.” She waves him off, and smiles her first smile. “I’m Sepira. Thank you so much for offering me shelter, really, you’re a life savior.”  
  
“Looking forward to something? If I may ask.”  
  
“Well, you see—” She giggles, and shares a knowing look with him he can’t possibly know about. She sips her tea eagerly. “I brought myself this very nice dress for the party I was invited to tomorrow, and I can’t wait to show it off.”  
  
Kawahira frowns, and takes his time to consider her words. “What a little pleasure to look forward to.”  
  
“And _what’s_ wrong with little pleasures, pray tell?” she teases.  
  
~~How could they ever matter in the face of the bigger picture, such,~~ ~~ _such_~~ ~~a bigger picture?~~

 ~~How could they ever stand their ground in the face of the greatest sorrows of the world, its greatest horror~~ ~~s~~ ~~?~~  
  
“Don’t they ever feel… not enough?”  
  
Sepira seems about to brush off the matter, but then something on his face must have told her more than he would have liked, because her eyes soften. “You might think that, even be convinced of it, right until you indulge into them anyway, and realize that’s exactly when you needed them the most. When you could have sworn they wouldn’t be enough.”  
  
Kawahira considers these words too, but simply doesn’t understand them.

He needs to keep the bigger picture together so all the Sepira in the world can enjoy their little pleasures, and it’s all he must ever needs.  
  
~~Or so he’s been taught.~~  
  
“What about you, Kawahira? Any little pleasures you’re looking forward to in the near future?”  
  
“No. No, I don’t think so.”  
  
A fire lights Sepira’s eyes, fierce and bright and _warm_. “Not on my watch, good sir!” She stands, and slaps her hand on the counter. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll be back tomorrow, to tell you how my party went. And then I might be back any other day after that, so we can drink some tea together again. I can’t say when, but I will be back. How does that sound?”  
  
Kawahira smiles, and it feels the way a smile should feel, and it reminds him of a boy who knew how to smile the way he knew how to breathe. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

* * *

Here’s the thing though, sometimes love doesn’t make you change paths, or try to come up with a new one.  
  
Sometimes it only makes you walk forwards tall and brave and firm ~~if not proud~~ on the same path you were struggling on before, because it’s worth it now.  
  
Kawahira needs to keep the bigger picture together so all the Sepira in the world can enjoy their little pleasures, and if that’s the only thing he manages to do, he’ll die peacefully ~~if not happy~~ knowing he did it.  
  
~~Sometimes love doesn’t make you good, and Kawahira will die with blood on his hands of innocent children he won’t allow to be children, and he wouldn’t change anything even if he could.~~  
  
~~Perhaps he wouldn’t even risk changing anything even if he knew it’~~ ~~d~~ ~~work.~~

* * *

This is how the world wins.  
  
Dad is away on a business trip, and super villains break into their house.  
  
They make it together downstairs amidst the chaos, but the super villains stand between them and the door, and they’re backed in the living room.  
  
They’re overwhelmed by their numbers, and one of them takes Skull as a hostage.  
  
~~Viper would have jumped and ended his life right there and then, would have never let Skull be taken in the first place, but Viper isn’t there and~~ he holds a gun to his head.  
  
They still, are told not to move as the super villains hurt them, so they don’t. Skull screams to forget about him, struggles in the villain’s hold, almost gets away.  
  
There’s a gunshot, and his body falls to the ground.

He doesn’t stand back up, doesn’t move.  
  
Lal _swings_ her bow in a flash of blue, and the villain’s head falls off.

The other ones fly away from them to slam against the walls, and some of them crash right through them.  
  
Lal tucks her violin under her chin and plays. Tears pour down her cheeks, both her eyes and skin white.  
  
She doesn’t stop, even when none of the super villains stand back up.  
  
This is all Fon’s fault.  
  
Skull bleeds out on the floor, Lal loses herself in her pain, keeps them down on the floor under the weight of her powers, and _it’s all his fault_.  
  
~~He didn’t speak out once during the fight,~~ ~~ _why_~~ ~~didn’t he use his powers? None of this would have happened if he wasn’t such a spineless coward afraid of his own power.~~  
  
His siblings’ scream fall into deaf ears, and still the music gets louder and louder, more frantic.  
  
Lal’s violin turns white, her clothes turn white, and still she plays, her eyes downcast.  
  
She doesn’t stop.  
  
~~She’s going to kill them all.~~  
  
She’s still crying.  
  
Fon crawls forwards, his nails dug into the floor until they bleed, and he doesn’t stop until he crawls into her field of view.  
  
Lal catches his eye, and the music slows down.

Fon opens his mouth. He has tears in his eyes. “I heard a rumor, you were powerless.”  
  
Lal’s powers explode forward in a last powerful wave, and the blinding white light is the last thing he sees.

* * *

Fon wakes up in the medical bay and doesn’t get to forget for even a moment, ~~doesn’t deserve it~~. He bursts into tears.  
  
He weeps, and weeps, and all the while he never comes up with a way to apologize to Lal in any way that would matter, a way to live with himself if Skull isn’t alive anymore.  
  
Then Dad comes back and makes everything ~~so much worse~~ better.

* * *

This is how the world is left to burn, but they don’t.  
  
They will, along with everyone else when the world does burn, but it isn’t the point.  
  
Lal is beautiful on stage, even if white was never her color—though it had been once, she was learning to make it her color once upon a time—, and her music doesn’t slow down for a second.  
  
Lal stood in the living room, dead super villains from all sides, Skull bleeding out on the floor. She played her anger, her grief, her pain, her guilt, but Fon could only listen to his fears.  
  
Fon drops the gun and faces her, and he sees both Lal perfectly, like he never stopped living in that one, terrible moment in time.  
  
~~He didn’t.~~  
  
He sits down cross-legged, and holds on the fact Lal follows his movements with her eyes, keeps her eyes on him.  
  
Lal is the one who learned to wait for him to write his words along with his other siblings, not The White Violin.  
  
“I used to think I could never apologize to you in any way that’d matter, but it was just an excuse. The least I owed you, and still owe you, is an apology.”

“I should have come to you right away that day, but I was selfish and took the easy way out.”  
  
“I’m so sorry Lal. I had no right to take your powers away from you for even a second, let alone all these years. I’m so very sorry.”  
  
Lal’s violin makes a high-pitched sound, like the whine of a wounded animal. There’s guilt in her eyes he doesn’t understand, until he realizes she’s not looking him in the eye anymore.  
  
“Oh no, please, please. I’ve forgiven you already, of course I did. There was nothing to forgive to begin with.”  
  
Lal squeezes her eyes shut, breathes deeply. The music stutters but then gets back on track, though the bow is brown again.  
  
“It hurts you kept it from me all this time,” Lal says, and he hears her perfectly despite the music. “You should have told me, I would have understood. I was hurting you.”  
  
Fon chokes up, and blinks the tears out of his eyes. “I should have. I’m sorry I didn’t, I’m sorry I was too afraid to do it.” He flips his notebook for her to read, hesitates on the words he wants to add. But this is his _sister_ , and if their relationship will end right here and then, he doesn’t want to regret anything. “You’ll never have to forgive me for the years I took away from you, but if you allow me to stay around you, I’ll keep working towards forgiveness. Towards trust again. Towards love.”  
  
Lal shakes her head fiercely, and her arms fall at her sides. The music stops but she still shines white, and it doesn’t die down.  
  
“I _love_ you. Don’t be stupid you little—” She sobs, and never finishes. She looks way above his head at what must be their siblings, each one in turn. “I love you.” She stops on one of them, and she purses her lips in regrets. “I thought they killed you.”  
  
“I’m alive,” Skull says softly. “I’m here, I’m fine. It’s okay, none of us holds what happened that day against you."  
  
“I ended the world. I got you stuck in the fucking apocalypse.”  
  
Viper huffs. “You sure fucking did girl.” They chuckle, and Lal’s violin turned brown again, and her clothes slowly turns back to black. “You hurt—are hurting. If you hurting less means the apocalypse, then the apocalypse it is. When did this family ever did something subtly anyway?”  
  
Lal smiles, a tiny, shaky thing that disappears as fast as it appears. She looks at them all once more, and looks down at her violin.  
  
“What if I never have the full control of my powers? What if—”  
  
Reborn cuts her off. “You’ll just have to train until you do then, don’t you? And don’t play modest on us now, we all know there’s nothing you can’t achieve, especially with our help.”  
  
“What if I still can’t do it?”  
  
“You will.”  
  
Lal holds her breath, because it’s Luce’s words, and Luce’s words can always be more than words. “Did you see it?” she whispers.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Are you lying?”  
  
Fon hears the grin in Luce’s voice. “Maybe. But only until we make it true.”  
  
Lal laughs, and it sounds like relief because they played that game many times before, and they know for a fact it’s one they can win.

Her clothes are black again, her powers blue, and Fon hopes.  
  
“It still hurts.” Lal cradles her heart, her cheeks wet but no new tears brimming in her eyes. “I still feel angry, and betrayed, and bitter, and so _sad_. It feels too much.”  
  
“Then keep playing.” ‘Nello flops down beside him, and grins up at Lal like he always does. “And this time we’ll listen like we never did before.”  
  
“I can’t. ‘Nello, I just _can’t_.”  
  
“Cold feet?”  
  
“What did you say?” Lal lifts her chin up high, and glares at Verde, daring. Fon grins so hard at the sight it hurts.  
  
“You have years worth of feelings to let out. Let’s hear them, miss First Chair.”  
  
Verde sits down on his other side, and the others follow, sitting down in a line with smiles and laughs and cheers.  
  
Lal looks at them with that exasperated, fond look of hers. Then she looks at him, and he smiles.  
  
“Play.”  
  
She smiles back, warm, brown eyes into his own.

* * *

By the time she finishes, minutes, hours, forever later, they do a standing ovation, and the world burns but it doesn’t matter, not now.  
  
Lal bows low all royalty like, a big grin on her face, and nothing else matters more than them, nothing else will ever matter more than each other.

* * *

And what do you know, sometimes love does save the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired for this one-shot by [this post](https://hopeswriting.tumblr.com/post/640582629180211200/khr-x-the-umbrella-academy-au) I made on tumblr. It gives more insight in the world building if you're interested, even though I changed some things.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Any and all review are appreciated. Thank you for reading!
> 
> \--- w_h


End file.
